I Want To Play A Game
by x.Illyria
Summary: Sherlock sends John a text while he'd at work that say simply, Ï want to play a game." "Is it not true, Sherlock, that to prove a theory, you need to replicate an experiment developed from the basis of your hypothesis three times?" AU
1. Chapter 1

John hasn't had a patient for over an hour when Sherlock texts him.

 _I want to play a game. -SH_

John laughed as he read it and swiftly sent back a text.

 _I'm working. And you, play a game? You hate games. Need I remind you of the Cluedo incident? -JW_

 _No, you're not. You're talking to me, and given that it's a bit faster than usual especially considering your terrible response time. Besides. It's a social experiment. The work comes first. -SH_

 _And you said that you wouldn't bring that up again. - SH_

 _What's the hypothesis? -JW_

 _I desire to assess my body's physiological responses when presented with various written stimulus that could otherwise be deemed erotic. I've already read your stash of erotic novels and noted the results. Really John? Most men have magazines. Are you a 40 year old woman going through a rough divorce? -SH_

Ignoring the jibe, John focused on the first part.

 _You want me to sext you? – JW_

 _Simply put, yes. -SH_

 _No. -JW_

 _Why not? -SH_

 _-SH The social implications of a man writing such things to another man, it.._

 _Just a bit not good. -JW_

 _Really John. Now is not the time to be delving into your homophobic tendencies. The work needs you. And the only people seeing this conversation at all are me, yourself and of course, the fat cake eater. -SH_

John dropped his phone as he read that last message. Mycroft was tapped into his phone.

It pinged thrice.

Of course _I have your phone tapped, Doctor Watson. Security measures, you understand. Don't worry, I'll have Anthea dispose of the history of this conversation when you two are finished playing 'Sherlock's game.' And any subsequent replays that may occur. -MH_

 _By the way, you really should take more care of your things. Dropping your phone will damage it, as you well know. -MH_

 _And if you don't, I'll just have to recreate my mould spore experiment on one of your jumpers. I think I'll use the cream one. It's particularly horrid. -SH_

 _Alright. Fine. Just leave my jumpers be. Mycroft, can't you do something else? -JW._

 _Consider it done. – MH_

 _Enjoy the cake. -SH_

 _John? -SH_

 _Yes? -JW_

 _How does one go about sexting? -SH_

 _Really, Sherlock? Why would you go into this without research? -JW_

 _Unbiased experiment. I wanted to do it without any preconceived notions about what I should and should not do otherwise it is an unfair test. Also, this is more your area. You even have a ridiculous nickname. SH_

 _Right. So the test is to assess your body's physiological responses when presented with erotic written stimulus, and the variable this time is your emotional attachment to the author. And because I am said author, I would be conducting this experiment. Yes? -JW_

 _Right in one, John. -SH_

 _I'm not even going to consider the implications of your assent to that statement. -JW_

 _Would I be remiss in requesting we get to it? – SH_

 _Not at all. -JW_


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N. So I have a no porn policy. But I decided that so long as there's no actual physical contact between the two it doesn't count. Things get pretty heated though.**

 **Another first. Hopefully it's not as horrible as 50 Shades, though I realise theres some cringiness about the language.**

 **Disclaimer. Pardon my French: I ain't know shit about the D/s world, or sexting for that matter and anything I use is mostly my interpretation of what would ensue in this situation. It's all in fun. BTW VERY NSFW – I might have to actually go to church this week. – I'm an atheist.**

 **Play nice, and drop us a comment.**

John took a breath and steadied himself before he began. Right.. Sexting. He hadn't done it in a while. In fact, he'd only done it a few times before when one of his girlfriends was feeling particularly randy.

He felt slightly awkward but then realised that it was Sherlock. It was purely for academic purposes and would probably never be mentioned again once he'd filed away the information that he needed.

He wondered how he ought to go about it for a few minutes before he began. He'd decided just to jump right into it.

 _I have the most wonderful bedframe with long iron bars. Sturdy on both ends. Your wrists and your ankles, I think. Blindfold, of course. -JW_

 _And this blunt little letter opener of mine, just sharp enough to feel the edge, but not enough to break the skin. Trailing it up your ankle, your calf, prick, prick, prick, your thigh. - JW_

 _Or maybe I'll drag you to the cinemas. We'll sit in the front row of the most mind numbingly obvious movie we can find, with my hand over your mouth, and we'll see just how quietly we can get the great Sherlock Holmes to come. -JW_

 _Would you like me to watch you touch yourself? Sit fully dressed across from you, just giving you small words of encouragement, like just how hot you look to me when you're pulling at your cock? -JW_

 _What the hell am I supposed to say to that - SH_

 _I believe "Yes" or "No" would suffice. -JW_

 _If "Yes", a "please" might go a long way. -JW_

 _And if I don't say please? - SH_

John found himself audibly growling at the very idea ignoring him and responded in kind, fingers flying furiously over his keys.

 _Then I might stop at just watching, when it'd probably be a lot more fun for you if I helped. -JW_

 _And if I dared utter the words, 'yes please, sir?"- SH_

 _Look at that. You thought to add the 'sir' on your own. I expect to see it from here on out. -JW_

 _Yes, sir. – SH_

 _Very good, pet. -JW_

John wondered for a moment if he'd gone too far. To test it, he'd decided to go all out, and see how Sherlock was dealing with it.

 _If you dared utter those wonderful words, my pretty little detective, you would find just how much better my hand would feel. Caressing, twisting, tugging. You would feel my mouth on you, until you're about to lose control, and then I'll stop. And I'll do it again. And then you know what I'll do? – JW_

Sherlock hadn't responded for a few minutes, and John was about to send an apology when responded back.

 _(had to record some results. Back.) What will you do? – SH_

 _Don't you think you're forgetting something? -JW_

 _What will you do, sir? -SH_

 _Better. -JW_

 _Absolutely nothing -JW_

 _Sir?- SH_

 _Until you asked me, very, very nicely. -JW_

 _How nicely, sir? -SH_

 _At least a please. -JW_

 _At most, a "I want you to fuck me, hard. I want you to keep me quiet, and I want you to do everything you can to make me feel like yelling your name." -JW_

 _We've spent a little while on me. What do you need, sir? -SH_

 _John had to think for a bit. He wasn't sure how to respond. This whole thing had him rather thrown for a loop. What went with the scenario? What did he want?_

 _To know what you want better than you do, then to exceed every expectation you have for it. -JW_

 _Knowing that you're probably thinking of me as you touch yourself right now is pretty rewarding as well. -JW_

 _And why don't you tell me next time you touch yourself, so I can know when you're doing it and think of you. So I can touch myself knowing you have your own legs spread and wanting. And when you do, I want you thinking of my own dripping cock, pounding you up the ass. Coming with you, as you yell my name for Mrs Turner's married ones to hear. -JW_

 _Can you do that for me, my pretty pet? -JW_

He was startled to find his words were true. But was even more startled to find Sarah knocking at the door. She asked after his welfare. "You look flushed. Mrs Johnson's here to see you. I think maybe you should go home afterwards."

John nodded his assent. Sara left and he bowed his head to send another text.

 _Is that enough to be going on, Sherlock? I have a patient. I'll be home afterwards. -JW_

 _Fine. -SH_

John laughed; he could _hear_ the whine through his words.

 _Is it not true, Sherlock, that to prove a theory, you need to replicate an experiment developed from the basis of your hypothesis three times? -JW_

 _Rational in the truest sense of the word, John. I'll see you when you get home. - SH_

Well, Sherlock was placated, and hopefully had enough data for a couple of days. He stood as his patient and smiled. Realizing his mistake, he promptly sat back down at his desk.

"Hello, Mrs Johnson, what can I do for you?"

John smiled while Mrs Johnson explained whatever ailment she believed she was suffering at the moment; butall John could think was that he'd have to go to the bathroom very, very soon.

Mycroft Holmes sat in his chair at Diogenes, whiskey in hand, happy as the cat who'd finally sunk his teeth into the canary. "Don't you think Doctor Watson managed that rather well for a man who claims to have no interest in his flatmate, Anthea?" Blackberry in one hand and a folder in the other, she walked from the door her boss. Without ever having taking her eyes off her phone she placed the document into Mycroft's waiting hand. "Not my place to say, sir." "Quite right," said Mycroft. "All transcripts of the conversation, including the ones on Sherlock's and Doctor Watson's phones have been destroyed, as you ordered, sir," she informed him.

"Except this one."


	3. Chapter 3

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p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"John closed his eyes and inhaled. Though societal conventions dictate that he never says so out loud, Mrs Johnson's burns on her hands had been of some help in alleviating his (not so) little problem. Temporarily. As a doctor, he was also partially ashamed of himself for ignoring her for any length of time. His attitude quickly changed as he received another text./p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"I have changed the parameters of the experiment. – SH/p  
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p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"You'll see when you get home. – SH/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"As he read the text, the taxi stopped and John was filled simultaneously with a sense of intrigue and of dread. For a moment, he stared at his phone, until the cabbie gave a not-so-subtle cough. John apologised and went through the necessary motions of paying his driver and got out of the /He stood in front of the flat and took a breath before entering. He walked on the stairs, favouring his left leg./p  
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p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"Well, fuck./p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"The man kept his promises./p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"Sherlock was lying on the sofa in his prayer position, as was per norm when John came home. What was not exactly normal was his attire, and what sat on the table in front of him. Sherlock was barefoot, and wearing light blue jeans of all things, restricting, by the look of it. John chuckled a little bit. It seemed that no matter the circumstance, Sherlock was not moving on the shirt situation, and for once he was okay with that. He wore the purple one, god the purple one. It was unbuttoned, three from the top, as though it were only a teaser. A preview of what was yet to come./p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"As for the table: John's letter opener, sharpened, no doubt, next to a variety of tying up type things. Zip locks, handkerchiefs, tape, rope, and... were they Lestrade's handcuffs? No, he recognised a set of scratches on them from a case that he recognised as Donovon's. Also, sat next to the rest, Sherlock's experiments /John stood frozen at the sight before him. John knew that Sherlock wasn't in his 'Mind Palace at the moment. He was probably sizing up John's reaction to the rather amorous display presented before him./p  
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p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;""Practical application?"/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"John's words were still little more than a breath./p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;""Yes."/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"With that, Sherlock swooped down to John's height and captured John's lips with his own. Teasing, playing, exploring. Sherlock bit John's lip, and gently rolled his tongue overbr /They were still kissing when John smiled and swiftly manoeuvred them so that he was no longer the one against the wall. Sherlock moaned as John bit him back. John moved his target focus to Sherlock's necks, trailing small kisses and bites down it. With one hand under Sherlock's shirt circling a nipple and the other tracing his hardened /"What were your ridiculous parameters, again?" Assessing your physiological responses when presented with erotic stimulus. Is this erotic enough for you? What if we skipped all the teasing and I just fucked you right here against the wall? What If I got you to yell my name so loudly, not only Mrs Turner's married ones will come where they stand, but dirty old Mrs Turner herself. Will that be erotic enough?"/p  
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